


The House of Anubis

by Dejahthoris



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! - All Media Types, Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Halloween, Haunted Houses, Haunting, Inspired by The Haunting of Hill House, Other, Paranormal, Spirits, haunted house au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:26:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27213394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dejahthoris/pseuds/Dejahthoris
Summary: The house was large, a manor, really. Imposing, yet striking more aw with every turn of a corner. You had never thought you'd be dragged back into the family business, but your brother needed you, and so too did his latest project. It stood alone among the trees, yet, you never felt alone when inside. Hairs prickle on the back of the neck, shivers run down spines, and hands fidget with every unoccupied moment.And the thing- or rather, person, who simultaneously eases and worsens these feelings? Atem, a man who was just as mercurial as the house itself, all smirks and light comments one moment, then lingering stares and strange musings the next.So the real question remains, will you uncover the secrets both the man and the manor are harboring?(A Halloween mini-series inspired by the show 'The Haunting of Hill House' and the movie 'The Frighteners'. The Reader x Atem themes are, admittedly, light as this mostly focuses on a spooky haunted house story, but the romantic undertones are there. Gender-neutral reader.)
Relationships: Atem (Yu-Gi-Oh)/Reader, Yami Yuugi/Reader
Comments: 10
Kudos: 19





	1. The Manor

**Author's Note:**

> Just wanted to do a little something for a spooky season, I wanted to get this done before Halloween but that's probably not going to happen. So instead I'll post the first chapter now, hopefully have the next out on Halloween, and post the ending some time a week or two after. Hopefully you guys like this and if you want something scary that's already complete, please consider reading my yugioh themed CYOA 'House of Fears'

It felt like you were driving through a decrepit, long-forgotten tunnel, vines and weeds slipping through cracked concrete and lights that had died years ago neglecting to guide your path. At least, that’s what it felt like. You found yourself once again leaning forward to peer up through the windshield, trying to find any hint of sky between the heavy canopy of leaves. The forest on both sides was so thick, that you weren’t even sure what kind of woodland creatures could wander between the trunks. And how the branches had grown to make a choppy arch above the road, you had no clue. There was some sunlight at least, gracing the road with their bright rays here and there, but the enclosed effect of this road was still a bit unsettling.

You forced yourself to lean back in the driver's seat and let out a frustrated breath that was meant to calm itching nerves. Honestly, you didn’t even know why you felt a bit nervous. Maybe it was the isolation of not seeing another living thing on this tunnel-like road. Or, maybe the stresses of the past days were still settling.

It continued to haunt you a bit, the way your heart and breathing seemed to freeze the moment you heard a calm voice on the other end of the phone announce that they were a nurse at St. Florence Hospital...and that your brother had been brought in. The nerve-wracking way a thousand thoughts had raced through your head in that second-long pause in the nurse's words was haunting too: Was he in an accident? Did someone attack him? Did he cut off a finger working with that old sawzall you kept insisting he get rid of? ….was he alive? 

You had even started tearing up with the frustrating thought that you were miles and miles away while your brother lay dying in some backwater hospital- when the nurse told you that he had suffered a heart attack, but had survived.

Apparently, as your brother had informed you a frantic phone call later, he was working on his latest project when, as unexpected as it sounded, he had experienced a horrible clenching around his heart. Just to pile on the horror of the situation, he had also been high atop a ladder when it happened, resulting in a broken leg and arm; one from getting caught between the ladder's steps as he fell, and the other from hitting the ground, respectively.

Thankfully, someone had been around to call an ambulance. Even still, he was lucky to be so young, because otherwise help still might not have gotten there in time.

Seriously though, a heart attack, at his age? Apparently it wasn’t unheard of, he  _ was _ almost twelve years your senior, and you were already well into your 20s. Still, it was a worrying situation, especially with how severe the heart attack had been and the doctor had implored your brother to either go back to living in the house you and he sometimes shared, or have someone come out there and take care of him until he was better.

With those as his options and refusing to abandon his latest project, he had literally begged you to spend the next few months in the quiet town of Hartstown. You understood, even as you argued with him about his seemingly nonexistent self-preservation instincts. After all, he had told you all about this dream project of his, and how he had already sunk a lot of money into it, he couldn’t abandon it now. So here you were, in a town that had two restaurants but only one gas station, and driving through a forest so thick you were sure the sky could turn to nightfall without you even realizing it.

Your brother had sent you pictures about the hundred-year-old manor, gushing in texts about how he was going to make it beautiful again, then turn around and sell it to some rich yuppy who wanted a lavish country getaway. It really was a beautiful place, years of neglect not doing much to tarnish its splendor or the possibilities you could see in it. Then again, you had always appreciated old houses, you and your big brother had grown up in numerous ones. 

Your parents had made their living flipping houses, especially restoring old ones to their original glory and big brother slipped into the business with ease, genuinely finding it to be his own passion. That made things easier after the accident, in a way, he had taken on their legacy with pride.  You had tried too, for a while, years of helping your parents giving you most of the experience you needed, but you just didn’t take to it the way he did. He understood, and handled the family business on his own while you pursued your own wants and dreams.

Still, your history with the business made this decision much easier. The day you arrived in Hartstown, thoroughly scolded your brother for his poor health, and announced your plan, he had insisted that you didn’t have to do this, that the house could wait until he was better, and that he hadn’t dragged you out there to pull you back into the family business. You had waved off the insistence with ease; it wasn’t like you actually planned to spend all of the coming months just driving him to physical therapy and keeping his airbnb clean.

You had spent the first week here by your brother's side almost constantly. Apparently, the first week or two was the typical window of danger where other complications would make themselves known. But, now that that window was passing and you personally saw how well your brother was already doing, it was time to get to work. 

You frowned down at the directions he had given you; surely you hadn't already passed the old street sign reading 'longhorn drive', right? No, you were far too attentive for that, desperate to get off this road and looking for your escape. The map app on your phone was useless, cell service being spotty at best on this road, as he had warned you. 

At least when you made this turn it was only one mile until you got to this infamous manor.

Ah! There at last, you saw the oldest road sign you had ever seen, nailed to a wooden post at the corner of a turn that went into a road even more narrow than the one you were on. At least the trees seem to thin out a bit here, hopefully it would make you feel less trapped in the last leg of the drive.

It did, especially as the trees continued to get thinner and more spacious, the sun shining on the road like a guide. With that, the drive didn’t take long at all and before you knew it you were coming up on the iron gates you’d seen in your brother’s many pictures. They were open of course, the EMTs having other priorities as they rushed him out of the house, so you didn’t bother slowing down much as you made the turn. The gates were in good shape, one of the few things that wouldn’t need replacing and the wrought iron fence accompanying it wasn’t far behind in condition. The dirt driveway was narrow and weed-infested and you made a mental note to ask if some stylish cobble stone was in your brother's budget. There were more trees, tall ones that only let you catch glimpse of the house at first, but soon enough the dirt path ended, and the house crept into view on your left.

Pictures didn’t do it justice. It was a true mansion, made of stone, three stories high with turrets on the front corners, a wide oak front door, and spacious grounds on all sides. It’s style was rather unique, almost combining gothic elements such as many tall arching windows and at least two verandas and balconies, with craftsman style roofs and the first floor sitting high above the ground. It had been built in the 1920s, but apparently, the architect liked the styles of decades prior. 

The faded wooden sign beside the grand front steps read:  _ The House of Anubis _ .

Anubis, the Ancient Egyptian god of death and the afterlife if you remembered right. You felt silly for it, but the name made you a bit uneasy- who would basically say their house was a gate to the afterlife? The Egyptian references did make sense though, the manor was built by an archeologist and professor who made it big during that hayday of excavations and exhibitions.

Eager to get started, despite the odd name of the place, you parked the car, killed the engine, and climbed out onto the still tall and weedy grass. The steps were those old narrow kind that made one feel unsteady, and that feeling wasn’t helped by the fact that they had several splits and cracks in them, even pulling apart where the oldest fractures lay. At least the stairs themselves weren’t anything special, shouldn’t be that costly to replace.

You were tempted to walk along the veranda first, taking in the golden and white tiles and worn down furniture that had only recently been set back into place. You could picture it now: sitting on the wicker loveseat, tea or coffee in one hand and book in another, occasionally lifting your gaze from the pages to stare out at the garden or forest without a care, feeling the cool breeze cross over your face just enough to soothe but shielded enough not to be bothered. 

You shook your head, chucking at your own day dream, you really should just head inside first, there’d be time to wander later.

The front door was at least closed, but again, the EMTs wouldn’t have exactly been concerned with locking it on their way out, so you didn’t even have to use the key big brother gave you. The door creaked in a loud croone when you pushed it open and before you was an entry hall unlike any you had seen before. You almost did a double-take, wondering if ‘The House of Anubis’ had transported you to a pharaoh’s tomb. The walls were a bright pale color, almost like sandstone but with a more golden tint, and portraits of Egyptian people and hieroglyphs wrapped around the room. The wallpaper wasn’t too busy or cluttered though, the depictions of people spreading out just enough so one’s eyes wouldn’t be overwhelmed when looking at them. There were two pillars beside the grand staircase and more ancient patterns were painted on them. Some chairs, tables, and even a sofa sat along the walls, again in that style befitting a king’s resting place. 

How had none of this been stolen or vandalized over the years? Your brother had told you that the manor was fairly well known in town, even though no one had lived in it for over ten years. Surely bored teenagers would have come knocking, it was odd to find any furnishings at all in houses such as these, but especially not ones in such good condition.

You had to shake off that uneasy feeling again, deciding not to look a gift horse in the mouth and moving on. Though, only after you shut and locked the front door behind you, finding yourself just a bit paranoid now. 

After allowing yourself a moment to study the beautiful depictions of what you knew must be a goddess on the wall, you moved on to the tall pocket doors standing open on the left. This would be the drawing or receiving room and, as you had expected, you saw that big brother had set up his base of operations here. His workbench and draft table sat in the center or the large room, tools and even some lumber scattered about. As you approached the draft table you took note that this room followed a more Victorian look instead of the Egyptian tomb style: rosy wallpaper, a beautiful fireplace framed in dark wood, and a thick but faded rug spanning most of the hardwood floor. 

The floorplans for the house were laid out on the table, pinned together with a clear sheet of plastic between each floor. As usual, the plastic was there so your brother could mark and note areas that needed repairs without damaging the actual floor plans. Currently the plans for the first floor were lifted, hanging off the table and opening the second floor plans for viewing. He had checkmarks beside a few of the notes, the repairs that had needed his attention first like plumbing issues and checking for mold. It was the same for the other two floors, as you saw when you flipped the pages; big brother had been busy in the six weeks he’d owned the place.

After scanning the blueprints thoroughly enough that you felt comfortable wandering through the house, you stepped back, deciding to check on some of those repairs he’d already made. Before you left the room, though, you almost tripped on a familiar device: his old boombox. Of course, he never worked on a house without it and you couldn’t deny the comfort of having music play while you worked. He even had his massive CD case propped up beside it, but you took a chance with whatever disk was already in there and pressed play before heading out of the room. 

Some 80’s pop music echoed off the old walls as you wandered into the next area, the conservatory. Again you were left in shock with how well-intact the room was, only have two panes in its all-glass wall broken and your jaw actually dropped at the plants bursting to life around you. Most were likely weeds by now, but you still appreciated the timeless beauty, which was only accompanied by some more wicker chairs, delicate tables, and two statues sitting in the far corners. One was of a goddess, Isis, if you had to take a guess, and her companion was a god, maybe Ra, both made of onyx colored stone and painted with gold and turquoise that must have once been bright and shining. You would definitely have to map out how to return the status to their original glory once more urgent repairs were made.

Unfortunately the conservatory was only a bridge to your destination, as the double glass doors on the other side of the room led to the study. This was a room made of dark woods and moody red wallpaper. Mahogany desks and leather chairs would be right at home here, if it wasn’t for the fact that some animals had found their way in and made nests. You nodded in approval at big brother’s work, almost no sign of the nests remaining besides some scratch marks on the wood floor and walls that could be sanded down and covered at a later date. The door had also been replaced, it’s shattered panes the reason why animals had found their way inside in the first place. You were just making to cross the room to the next door- when a sound clattered not an inch away! 

You choked back a gasp, then scolded yourself a second later. No, not a clatter, just your ring tone.

Shaking your head, you took your phone out of your pocket and answered it. “Please don’t tell me you’ve broken something else?” you said in place of a greeting.

“Oooh you’re so funny,” mocked the familiar voice on the other end, “Just taking my hour rest so my heart doesn’t give out, thought I’d check in on you. You got to the house okay right?”

“Yup, though that one road with the thick-ass trees went on for forever. You sure there’s not a faster route here?”

“Nope. As it is those roads are mostly just used by farmers going into town, we’re lucky it’s as direct to the house as it is.” Your brother paused for a moment before saying, “So, what do you think? Pictures don’t do it justice, right?”

“Definitely, this tomb robber really knew how to build a house, some rich history enthusiast is going to love it once we’re done.”

“I still wish you would have waited 'til I could come with you, I wanted to see the look of awe and wonder on your face,” he said with a sigh that was far too dramatic for the topic.

“Dude, they’re having you do an hour of physical therapy for each injury you managed to collect. I am not sitting around doing nothing for three hours three times a week.” 

Honestly, it still shocked you how much they were putting on your brother’s recovery, when your uncle had had his heart attack, they only made him attend hour-long sessions of physical therapy. Maybe they expected more out of a younger specimen. 

“Besides, with the chair they gave you it’d be really hard to get you into the house, at least until I can set up a temp ramp,” you pressed on, thinking of the large, clunky, motorized thing he was having to get by in, hopefully when his arm healed up he could switch to an easier wheelchair or maybe even crutches. 

“Yeah yeah, call me an inconvenience, I see how you are,” he mocked, “So what are you doing now?”

“Oh, you know, just checking out the rooms.”

“….You’re looking over my work to see if I screwed up, aren’t you?” he accused, a disbelieving incredulity coloring his tone.

“No! I’m just seeing what’s been done, that’s all!” you answered, voice higher than you wanted it to be.

“Yeah right,” he mocked back and promptly blew a raspberry into the phone like a proper, mature adult. Someone in the distance on his end called out and he pulled away from the receiver to answer, then, “Alright, kiddo, I got to go, more breathing treatments and a test to run. Call you when I’m done.”

After a goodbye from your end, you hung up the phone, slipped it back into your pocket, and finally finished your short walk to the other side of the study. You turned the crystal-like knob of the old door opening into the library, the next room of the house most likely to impress you. Impress it did, with its two stories of built-in bookshelves, rail-guided ladder, cozy fireplace, and spiral staircase leading up to the second floor.

Unfortunately, what drew your attention more than the grandeur of the space, was the fact that there was blood on the hardwood floor. 

Oh, this must have been where he had his heart attack. The tall metal ladder that had fallen near the dried smear of blood supported the theory. With a breath to calm yourself, you approached the spot, trying to assure yourself that the stain was smaller than it first looked. Besides, your brother was fine. Banged up and grumpy from lack of work, but fine, the blood meant nothing now.

With a sigh you started turning the work ladder back upright, noting the scuff marks on the floor where it must have been when he fell. After matching the legs with the marks, you looked up, trying to figure out what he had been working on. This was the only stretch of wall besides the fireplace where there weren’t any bookshelves. Instead a tall window stood there, allowing sunlight to peek in, shining directly on the fireplace, both to aid anyone cozied up in the room to read, but also to prevent sun damage from getting to the bookshelves. It took a minute to spot, but in one of the middle panes, there was a hole and spider-web cracks in the glass, he must have been trying to patch the hole with a temporary cover.

You made a note to get on that yourself after you cleaned up the blood, and began turning away, but something else caught your eye.

You squinted, peering up at the flowery wallpaper beside the window. There, just a hand-span from the broken window pane...were those tears in the wall-

“Hello.”

You let out a yell that bordered on a scream, clutching your heart as you spun around at the deep voice.

A man, a young man, stood leaning against the fireplace, taking in your startled terror with a raised brow. When had he..?!

“Where did you come from?” you demanded between still thundering heartbeats. “Who are you?”

Something flickered in the stranger’s violet eyes, “Apologies, I did not mean to scare you.” He shrugged off of the fireplace, tucking his hands into the pockets of his dark pants. “My name is Atem, and you are?”

Now that your heart was finally starting to settle, you straightened a bit before giving him your name. “How did you get in here?” was the next question on your lips, the words still a bit snippy.

He paused a moment, eyes narrowing just a bit, as if your verbal approach greatly intrigued him. “The front door was open. Again, I apologize, I suppose I got too used to coming in of my own accord while your brother has been here.”

“You know my brother?”

He closed his eyes with his short nod, “Yes. In Fact, I’ve been worried about him. When I saw your car I was hoping you would tell me...is he alright?” The stranger- Atem, flicked his gaze to the bloodstain, something darkening in his eyes. “I was the one who called for help, but I haven’t heard any news of his health. I was worried.”

You didn’t answer, not right away. You thought about just pressing on with your questions but, the look in Atem’s eyes, the way his brows pulled down low, really did say that he was being truthful about his worry. Besides, wasn’t it nearly impossible to get word from the hospital unless you were related to the patient? Made sense that he hadn’t heard any news.

“He’s a bit beaten up, but alive. He’s actually doing pretty well considering how bad his injuries were,” you answered eventually, and were satisfied when Atem’s expression visibly softened at the news, relieved. “He said he was lucky that a friend started making the habit of dropping by the house to keep him company, I guess you’re that friend,” you hesitated again, somehow finding it impossible to let go of that last thread of suspicion you felt around this man. Still, you managed an honest, “Thank you. You saved his life, doctors said that even being as young as he is, he still might not have made it if they got here any later.”

Something shifted in Atem’s eyes again, something dark casting over them and he only held your gaze a moment before his eyes drifted up to the top of the ladder where you had been staring. “I only wish I could have gotten here before it happened.”

An odd statement, you thought, your brother would have had the heart attack regardless of someone being there. Well, maybe Atem just meant he wished he’d been here to see the signs of the attack before it caused the dummy to fall off that damn ladder.

Atem blinked then, as if remembering himself. He straightened and looked back at you with a small, polite smile. “I’m glad he’s alright though. Are you here to take over the manor’s renovations? Or, are you taking him home to recuperate? He tells me that you and he share a home when he’s not working on his latest project.”

You gave a dramatic sigh, “We do, it was the house our parents left for us, but he hardly ever stays there. And unfortunately I couldn’t convince him to recover there so, your first assumption is correct. Between keeping an eye on him, I’ll be taking over all of this-” you waved your hands to encompass the room and the house beyond, “-until he gets better.”

You noted how the friendly smile slowly slipped from Atem’s lips as you answered, and now he was almost frowning even as he nodded. “He has an almost admirable dedication to this house. At least he isn’t insisting on working himself just yet.”

“He has a dedication to every house he works on,” you said, almost absentminded and when Atem’s brow lifted in yet another silent question, you shook your head to clear your thoughts. “He’s just like that with every place he buys. Our parents taught us to see the hidden beauty in all houses, and how restoring them was a kind of...I don’t know, a kindness?- That’s not the right word. They used to say houses could love a resident just as much as the resident can love a house, and how, if it’s fallen apart or been abandoned, it withers like a plant without sunlight. Renovating it- restoring it, is like breathing life back into it, so it can properly love its next resident.”

The moment the small lament was out you found yourself flushing, especially at the way the corner of Atem’s lips quirked up and his eyes softened a bit.

You cleared your throat, “Sorry, just...I haven’t worked on a house with him in a long time. Brings back memories.”

“I understand,” Atem said, the other corner of his mouth lifting to another light smile. “You both get the same look in your eyes when you talk about homes like this. It’s quite lovely.”

The heat in your face flared up even more, and you cleared your throat again before turning, looking at the library at large. “Anyway I uh- better continue my tour of the house,” you took a step towards the door opposite the one you’d entered, then, “you can walk with me, if you want.” 

The offer surprised you a bit, despite having said it. Much like the oddness of Atem’s sudden appearance, the mix of feelings you felt around him was a bit baffling. You still felt a slight uneasiness, one you hadn’t been able to shake completely since he first startled you. Despite that, however, you didn’t feel particularly endangered by him. Quite the opposite, to create an odd, almost giddy cocktail of emotions, the unease mixed with a slight need to keep the man in your presence, get to know him, work out the curious nature he seemed to exude. 

“I would like that,” Atem replied simply, and took a few steps to join your side.

Together you two walked to the second of the three doors in the library, and this opened into a hallway of sorts. If you remembered the floor plans right, the door on your left was a closet, and a bathroom was on the other side of the wall on your right.

“So, you said you saw my car outside Odd, what with all the trees surrounding the house, do you live nearby?” you asked, not bothering to hide your feelings airing on the side of suspicion. Hey, just because your wariness was overshadowed by your curiosity didn’t mean you were pushing everything aside altogether.

He didn’t seem to mind, in fact, he smirked at you as you two turned the corner on your right. “I often take walks in the woods and I saw your car through the trees. Several houses were built in the woods near the manor, so staff who worked here would have the option to live closer to the house and not have to travel from town.”

That made sense, despite the gothic appearance the manor was built in a time when having servants was falling out of style and becoming less commonplace, even among the wealthy. The professor who built the house might have had a cook and housekeeper, maybe even a butler, but not anything so fancy as to need live-in help. You could see the modest little houses in your mind now, but somehow, the idea of Atem cloistered up in one didn’t seem to fit quite right.

“So those houses aren’t part of the estate?” you asked as you two entered a longer, more narrow hallway; an open doorway on the left, and the hall stretching onward to your right.

“Not anymore. The second man to inherit the house, professor Arthur Hawkins, sold them. I think he did not want the hassle of upkeeping the rental properties.”

Choosing the doorway on your left, you entered the kitchen, a big, open room with white tile walls and gray floors. “You seem to know quite a bit about the house and its history,” you couldn’t help but look over at him, again making your suspicion and interest apparent.

“I guess you could say I’m a bit of a local historian. I’ve lived here a long time.”

Again, his choice in words struck you. I mean, the man looked no more than a year or two older than you, if that. Maybe he was just one of those old souls who liked to put on the air of being mature and more experienced than they were.

Deciding not to comment on it, you took some time to survey the kitchen. It was an impressive thing, plenty of countertops and an old oven fit for making extravagant christmas dinners. According to your brother's notes there was a bad leak in here that he had taken care of first and foremost, and the evidence of that was in the hole in the wall, exposing a new length of pipe and recently axed wood. That would probably be the first thing you patched up, something more simple to jump back into the family game.

“So, tell me more about the family history of the place. I know it was built by an archeologist in the 20’s, but that’s about it,” you asked as you turned around, heading for the swinging door that led into the dining room.

“Well, there isn’t much to tell. The house was built by Professor Alexander Hawkins, a man who made his wealth plundering the sands of Egypt.” The bitterness in his tone made you pause, but he continued on, “He built it with the intentions of keeping his family happy while he was away on digs, but, unfortunately, he and his wife died only twenty or so years later. Their son, Arthur, followed in his footsteps in some ways, taking an interest in Ancient Egypt.”

“Not surprising, considering he grew up in a house like this,” you added, noting the replica busts of a queen and pharaoh sitting on the mantel that looked better suited for a Cairo exhibit than a dining room.

Atem gave a nod, “Fortunately he was a bit more virtuous than his father, and made his living through more honest means. He too passed, and left the manor to his granddaughter, Rebbeca.”

Rebbeca, the woman who had sold the place to your brother. It was a story you had heard often; family home slowly losing its grandeur through the generations, until it finally passed to someone who just didn’t make enough money to afford a place so extravagant. Still, the fact that the house was still in such good condition continued to surprise you, especially given how much stuff was still here. Almost always the house was stripped of anything that was worth a dime before it was sold. Yet the granddaughter hadn’t even bothered to take the lovely dining table that sported carvings of eagles, hounds, cats, and other animals revered by the ancient Egyptians.

It was a small dining room, given the rest of the house, just big enough to fit the usual family of four and maybe a few guests. Beyond it, passed another set of pocket doors, was a lounge. Some more replicas of pharaonic treasures sat on tables and mantels, but the thing that caught your eye most were the once lavish settees and chairs, as well as the paintings hanging on the walls. They weren’t in the typical ancient Egyptian art style, rather the softer, more vibrant kind seen in the victorian era. All were depicting scenes of life that might have happened in those ancient cities forgotten in the sand; a diverse market bustling with eager shoppers looking at pottery and the work of weavers, a barge on the Nile river with women dancing on the deck and a couple kissing as they tipped their toes into the water, a pharaoh’s throne room filled with beautiful women and bowing courtiers all in awe by the king’s commanding presence atop his throne.

Not even these, the granddaughter had not even taken these? Odd, very odd.

“I thought these would catch your eye, they seem to catch everyone’s eyes.” 

You jumped a bit at the sudden closeness of the voice, realizing Atem was leaning in almost near enough to brush your arm. How had you not sensed him coming closer? 

He was looking over the painting of the Pharaoh’s court as he continued, “They are not particularly accurate, the colors and style of the clothes, the lightness of their skin, even the architecture is off. Still, I suppose they’re interesting to gaze at.”

“An Egyptologist yourself, are you?” you teased, even nudging him in the shoulder. 

His smirk was back again, “I suppose you could say that.”

You couldn’t get too distracted, you didn’t have a lot of time left before you had to grab big brother from his therapy sessions. You would leave the inspection of the tower rooms for another day, and instead headed through the other set of pocket doors back into the entry hall.

“I should be going,” Atem began before you could make your way towards the grand staircase. “Thank you for easing my worry, I’m glad your brother is alright. It was a pleasure to meet you and... if you will allow me, I’d like to visit from time to time while you work, as I did with him.”

“That’s fine by me,” the agreement came easily to you, without a second thought. Despite his odd demeanor, you found Atem to be quite an easy person to get along with, his company should help keep this house from feeling too large and lonely.

At your reply, Atem’s expression shifted yet again, something close to interest or maybe even slight delight played in his eyes as they searched your face. “In that case, I will see you soon.”

His gaze lingered for another few heartbeats, long enough that you found yourself flushing again. You nodded your quick agreement before turning towards the stairs. A moment later you heard a soft click near the front door, but you actually paused when you didn’t hear a second. Looking over your shoulder, you found that the door was still slightly ajar. Little jerk, you’d have to remember to scold him for not closing the door properly the next time you saw him. 

***

You only got halfway through your tour of the second floor before your phone when off, a reminder to start heading back to the clinic to pick up your brother. The clinic wasn’t in the little town closest to the house, rather a bigger town over half an hour away, but still close enough to justify you working while he was at his session. He was all eager to see you, despite how drained he looked from the exhaustion of physical therapy, and the moment he was packed into your car he was asking your options on the house. 

You told him honestly how impressed you were with it, also voicing how odd it was that the place hadn’t been vandalized or stolen from given all the things left there.

“Yeah, took me awhile to get over that too,” he said from the passenger seat, fiddling with his phone in an effort to get directions to the pizza place he promised you dinner from. “I think the locals don’t give the house enough mystery to make teens interested in visiting it. Besides, there're several houses near the property, so maybe most assumed they couldn’t get away with breaking in- oh turn right at the next light.”

You did as instructed, then, “Speaking of that, who was the guy who called the ambulance for you that night?” You couldn’t help asking, you just needed to add a bit more credibility to your new friend before you relaxed around him more.

Your brother’s eyes went a bit wide, “Shit, I forgot all about Atem! I was going to ask you to find his place and tell him I’m alive. Dude’s probably been traumatized, finding me bleeding and heaving on the floor, I feel like such an ass now.”

“Well don’t worry,” you said, feeling satisfied now that you confirmed Atem’s claims, “he dropped by the house while I was there and I told him you were okay.” You found yourself biting your tongue on the words, considered for a moment, then spoke them anyway. “Something was a bit odd though, he just waltzed right into the house like he owned the place. I was looking over the library and he was just standing there, no knocking, no nothing.”

Out of the corner of your eye you saw your brother scratching the back of his head, “Yeah, he kind of does that. I get the feeling he’s sort of appointed himself as the unofficial caretaker of the house, he showed up the first day I started working on it, guess I just got used to the way he just walks in, figured if he intended to steal from the place he would have done it already.” His protective mode must have been activated after he thought for a moment, because he was suddenly dropping that easy demeanor and looking you over with his brows drawn together, “He didn’t make you uncomfortable or anything, did he? I can have a talk with him if he did.”

Again you found yourself biting your tongue, thinking for a beat before answering. “No, not really, just startled me a bit. Not used to strangers just walking in, you know?”

He nodded, easing back in his seat again, “Yeah, I get you. Atem’s a good guy though, never gets underfoot when you're working, but great to talk to. He’s a bit weird, but cool.”

“Right…”

The conversation trailed off into silence, and for some reason, even after you pulled into the pizza joint and sat staring at a parmesan shaker after you ordered, your mind kept drifting back to the strange man at the manor one way or another.


	2. The Shadows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAHA look at me, actually getting this chapter done just in time to end Halloween on a good note! I can't believe I did it, but I'm proud of myself. We still have a chapter (maybe even two depending on how the ending goes) until we get to the end of the miniseries, but I hope this is creepy enough to spice up your Halloween! I also hope everyone had a good holiday in general, whether you stayed in watching movies, dressed up with a friend/loved one, or actually managed to get some treats!

You swiped at your forehead yet again, clearing off more sweat gathering there. Why exactly had you picked the last hot day of the season to do this? 

Oh well, at least it was done now, you told yourself as you leaned back, stretching your muscles and looking over the work. It was only a temporary ramp, laid over the crumbling front steps, but it would serve its use: helping your brother get inside so you could both be in the house even before he was recovered. Just because he couldn’t lift anything didn’t mean he couldn’t help.

After weight testing the ramp to your satisfaction, you tucked the few tools you dug out for the job back into your belt. However, before heading into the house, you took a moment of respite, wandering over to the small wicker table that would likely need to be repaired or thrown out. You were surprised and lucky to find that the local gas station actually sold your favorite drink and took a long swig of it after sitting down in the equally disheveled wicker chair. With a long exhale you scanned the grounds around you, the forest, the forgotten flower beds that would need cleaned up as a bonus selling point, the weedy grass in between. 

Despite the unkempt appearance, it was still peaceful. More peaceful than you felt inside the house anyway. Though, admittedly, the isolation that you disliked inside the manor persisted out here in some ways. Cars rarely passed on the road, not that you could see it from the house, the woods walling the grounds made an effective barrier, almost letting you wonder if there was anything beyond them at all. But there was, and out here you could tell that. Birds sang, squirrels and other critters nested in the trees, and there were houses somewhere in the distance. It was easy to shake aside any foreboding or negative musings out here.

Allowing yourself a few minutes more, you closed your eyes and took in the smell of the approaching autumn. It would only get chillier from here, but today the breeze felt nice and you only made yourself get up from the seat when you found yourself edging dangerously close to a nap. 

With a sigh you grabbed your drink and headed inside, annoyingly aware of the work that still needed to be done today. You had left the doors open but shut them tight behind you since you would be occupied inside for the rest of your would-be work shift. The music you were playing from the boombox was louder now of course, but you didn’t bother turning the volume down since your next project was in the library.

As usual, you passed through the conservatory to get there and hoped that the room would wash a calming mood over you. The garden-like room was quickly becoming your favorite in the whole house. Perhaps it was how open the room was, easing the trapped effect big and old manors tended to have when you were alone in them. Or maybe it was just the peaceful sound of nature on the other side of the glass walls doing their job.

Either way, passing through the conservatory and even lingering there a moment didn’t help you. The moment you shut the door to the study behind you something seemed to tighten around your whole body, making you quite aware of the deeper breaths you had been taking since resuming the renovations. 

You felt stupid for it, knew that your unease was the same unease you felt in any other large home. Having no one else around just made the wide and vast rooms feel more...void-like. Knowing that there was room beyond room around you just...empty, devoid of anything but chairs and paintings and figurines atop mantels; that you were the only living thing moving from room to room-

You shook your head, wanting to slap yourself. It wasn’t a new feeling, and you told yourself you should have gotten over it by now, this weird uneasiness of voids and empty spaces. Of being completely alone.

Of course, your next task surely wouldn’t help your discomfort.

It was only your second day of actually working on the house, but you told yourself you couldn’t put this next task off for the third day or the day after that. Surely the worst part would be cleaning up the blood, which you had done on the last visit. Surely climbing up that ladder and patching up that window wouldn’t be terrible.

So why did you find yourself standing at the bottom of the ladder, staring up at the cracked pane for nearly five whole minutes?

You swallowed down the lump in your throat, honestly, there was nothing to be scared of, it’s not like the ladder caused your brother’s heart attack. Forcing yourself to take a deep breath, you reached out, fingers closing around the metal step.

Something crawled up your spine.

Something so tangible your body jerked, but you knew nothing was behind you. No, no it was just cold. But why was it so intense? You shivered next, still paused in your act of climbing the ladder- why was it so cold all of the sudden. You forced yourself to look up, eyes crawling up the ladder toward the window, images of what might meet your gaze playing in your mind.

But there was nothing, just the cracked pane and the sunlight seeping in through the stained glass. Still, you were finding it hard to breathe even as you tried to ease the breaths out in a calming manner. You had just fought off another shiver, when something gave a shout somewhere behind you.

A gasp almost escaped as you wheeled towards the door that led to the study. Someone had called your name. Your heart was thundering in your ears now, breaths getting caught in your lungs. Another beat, your breath holding as you simply stared towards the door and the call from the other side. Then, the voice said something else.

And your lungs released their chokehold on you. It was just Atem. Or at least you thought you recognized that sultry baritone. Seriously why the hell were you so damn jumpy?

With a ragged sigh, you all but stormed towards the study, passed the room, and stepped out into the conservatory. Atem stood there, by the glass door that led out to the grounds, looking cautious as he peered into the home. He flashed you that small smile when he spotted you.

“I thought I would ask permission before entering this time, since I startled you so badly during our first meeting.”

You actually found yourself snorting at that, “Thanks, but you can always use the doorbell you know.”

“It’s broken. Has been for years.”

“Of course it has,” you sighed, actually vaguely remembering the note to fix it being way down at the bottom of your brother’s to-do list. Then, after realizing that he was still waiting for permission to enter (what was he, a vampire?) you waved for Atem to follow you. “Come on, you can help steady the ladder while I patch the window.”

He complied wordlessly, and as you slipped into the study, you remembered how you wanted to scold him about shutting doors properly. Just as you started to look over your shoulder though, you heard the soft click of a latch behind him. Satisfied, you just gave an approving nod without even turning as you both entered the library.

Perhaps it was still your own lingering apprehension, but you were acutely aware of the way Atem seemed to stiffen as you approached the spot. His eyes drifted up the wall beyond the ladder, as if he was taking stock of every inch of it, waiting for it to do something. Maybe brother was right, maybe Atem was a bit traumatized from finding him mid-heart attack. No one could blame the man, heck, just the  _ knowledge _ that it happened here was freaking you out. Enough to make you a jumpy cat at every cold breeze and knock, at that.

“You okay?” the question was out before you even realized you wanted to ask it, but it felt right. 

Atem’s eyes flicked away from the wall to gaze at you from their corners, “I will be. Just...promise me you’ll be careful.”

You gave a shrug, hoping to lighten the mood, “Come on, not like this spot in the house is a heart attack inducer or something, I’ll be fine.”

To further lighten, you stepped towards the ladder, facing your own hesitation head-on as you prepared to climb.

“That’s not what I meant, not exactly.” 

Atem’s voice was low, and it almost seemed to tickle your ear despite the fact that he hadn’t moved closer. When you looked over your shoulder his gaze was steady, boring into you with something too gentle to be intensity, but too binding to be soft. 

“Just be careful while you’re in this house,” he continued and you couldn’t break his gaze even if you wanted to. “This place...it has a bad habit of collecting accidents. Just...please be careful.”

Your throat was dry, so dry you didn’t bother trying for a verbal response. Instead, you just nodded after a moment, and something in your chest seemed to release when another smile lifted Atem’s lips at the agreement. 

Despite how odd that moment might have been, you still took comfort in Atem’s presence as you turned back to the ladder and began climbing with care. Some part of you still expected something to happen with each step you took, but you were able to push the paranoia to the back of your mind.

After the hurdle of the climb was over, the actual patch job didn’t take more than a couple minutes, just gluing the cracks so they didn’t spread further and taping up plastic. The pane was a simple square, easily replaceable much to your relief. You were just about to climb back down when something else caught your eye. 

Oh, you almost forgot about the odd tears you had seen on your first visit, but up here they were almost at eye level. Seeing them up close was even more odd. There were two tears in the wallpaper in the small space between the window and the bookshelves. They weren’t warped or bubbled enough to be moisture or water damage, besides that there weren’t any other signs of that on the walls. You ran your fingers over the tears, feeling the rough texture of the thick paper. The edges weren’t clean, they were frayed, stressed, like something had swelled underneath until the paper burst. Again your mind went to water damage, but you had never seen it do something quite like this, and surely it would have bubbled up further down the wall.

“Is everything alright?” Atem called from below, snapping you out of your baffled wondering. 

You shook your head, “Uh, yeah, just trying to figure out what caused these marks. Always have to watch stuff like this, houses will give you signs of problems if they can.” Another motto your parents had left with you and your brother, though you supposed it was true in a way, you always had to look closer at these things, in case they were symptoms of a worse issue.

But, since you couldn’t find anything wrong besides the cosmetic damage, you opted to leave that for further investigation on another day. Besides, you were still a bit eager to get down.

You climbed back to the ground with ease and found Atem waiting patiently with his hands tucked in his pockets. It was only then that you took real notice of the man’s clothes: a plain black turtle-neck, and dark blue pants that weren’t as casual as jeans, but not dressy either, honestly you weren’t sure what kind of pants they were. He looked cozy in them at least, which, despite the heat of today, would be useful as fall continued.

“So, what’s next?” Atem asked with polite curiosity.

“I’m heading upstairs now, there’s a support beam in the attic I need to check on and a leak in a sink that should be taken care of before it gets worse.” You hefted a bag of tools over your shoulder. 

He followed beside you as you headed towards the library door that led to the entry hall and the main staircase. At least the architect of this place had the common sense to make most rooms accessible from most parts of the house. You had been in several from the victorian era that were like mazes to get through, that had rooms you could only open after jogging through four other rooms.

The second floor of the house wasn’t as grand as the first in terms of decor or originality. In fact, most of the rooms were rather standard for a place built in the 20s, though still emulating the victorian style. The third floor wasn’t much either, though it had a nice loft above a den-like area that could definitely be the envy of any kid’s room. Heck, even you caught yourself daydreaming about how you would have decorated the space as a kid. Most of the third-floor rooms were cramped compared to the rest of the house, ceilings angled as the roofs neared their peak, spaces narrowing as the craftsman style made the rooms more haphazard than the first and even second floor.

The only access to the attic was via the second set of stairs in the house, the narrow servant’s stairs near the back. It was even more cramped up here, despite the fact that there was literally nothing but cobwebs, dust piles. and some minor debris from the house chipping and flaking away with age. Anyone on the tall end of the spectrum would have to crouch the whole time they were up here or risk banging their heads into the rafters and ceiling frames. You noted that Atem was short enough to avoid that problem altogether, though that wild hair of his was likely collecting some cobwebs.

He was rather quiet, another note made as you shuffled your way across the attic.

“I replaced this support beam the other day,” you started, if only to have some form of conversation, “it was the next pressing thing on the to-do list, but it’s been a while since I’ve done a repair that important so I want to keep checking on it.”

“You did such a thing by yourself? Isn’t that dangerous?” Atem asked, and though you couldn’t see his face as he walked behind you, you were sure his eyes were a bit narrowed in a silent scolding. “I never thought work like this should be done alone, yet you and your brother seemed determined to do so.”

You flashed him a rather flippant scowl over your shoulder, “We’re not stupid, yes, we do prefer to do things with minimal help, mostly because of cost, but we do hire other people when we need to.” You had reached the beam in question, and inspected it carefully as you continued, “There’s this kid- well, teenager, in town he had already agreed to help when it was needed, so he helped me with this.”

Atem apparently didn’t feel the need to reply and you took another minute to look your work over in silence. Then, satisfied, you looked back at your companion. He didn’t seem to be quite there, mentally speaking, he was gazing at nothing in particular and only blinked himself back into the moment once you gave a gentle call of his name.

“Sorry, I was just thinking. Well, at least you have help when you need it, I can’t imagine how upset he would be if you got injured while having over his project.”

You snorted at the thought, though you supposed your brother would be beside himself if you got hurt. Big brothers were always expected to be protectors, but that went double for yours. He had taken the role as your guardian very seriously after your parents were gone.

“Never mind him,” your tone was light again, still trying for that easy air, “ _ I’ll _ be beyond pissed if I have to join him in physical therapy.”

Moving on, you ducted past the beam, and Atem jerked out of your way as you headed towards the stairs.

“So, Atem, I really don’t know anything about you yet, mind if I ask some stereotypical questions?”

He made a small scuff of a laugh, “I don’t mind, ask away.”

“What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a historian. You made a joke the other day about me being an Egyptologist, I’m not, I simply know quite a bit about history in general.”

“So you, what, mostly do stuff online? There can’t be much call for a historian out here in the middle of nowhere.”

“I manage. You could say that I don’t need much to get by, and live a rather quiet life.”

As you two came to the door that opened to the stairwell, you took a moment to look back at Atem. He hadn’t really answered the question, though you supposed it wasn’t much of your business if he didn’t want to. Hell, for all you knew he wrote historical erotica and was too embarrassed to admit it. You had to hide your smirk at the thought as you turned to march down the stairs.

“Are you married? Seeing anyone in this teeny little town?” you asked next, though you were worried the loud creaking of the steps under your feet would drown out his answer.

“No, I don’t tend to get out enough to date. And you?”

If you hadn’t asked the single or taken question first, you’d be tempted to tease the way his voice went up a notch when he asked you. “Nope. Been single for over a year now, but that’s okay, he was an ass you made me seriously reconsider my dating priorities.”

“I see...”

You thought you heard Atem take a breath, ready to say something else, but a noise from your phone interrupted him. 

“Right on time,” you said, taking a quick glance at the screen, then, seeing Atem's curiosity you waved the screen displaying your brother’s name and message, “He’s giving me a one-hour warning before his therapy is up so I know when to head that way. Should give me just enough time to fix that pipe.”

You notice a slight fall in Atem’s expression, “I did not realize you would be leaving so soon, I suppose I should have visited earlier.”

Though you weren’t sure why, something akin to guilt started itching at your chest, especially since he was seeming to avoid your gaze now, opting to look at the hallway walls instead. 

“Well, if you’re free tomorrow, both of us will be here all day,” you suggested, even as you turned into the master suite. “Now that I put that ramp in, we can spend most of our free time here. Besides, I know big bro will be happy to see you, he’s pretty certain that he traumatized you last time you saw him.”

You were happy to hear Atem chuckle at the words. “You can assure him that it takes more than that to shake me, at least now that I know he’s alright.” Right when you reached the bathroom door, Atem stepped slightly in your way, making you halt. “I will be sure to visit you both tomorrow, until then, have a good day,” he ended the parting words with your name and a nod of his head, though his eyes lingered on you, trailing over your face for a long moment before he stepped back.

“You too…” the words lingered after him and his rather abrupt goodbye as he headed out of the room, only giving you a smirk over his shoulder as he went. 

He had done that during your first meeting as well, suddenly taking his leave as if his time here had always been pressed. Then again the man had a life of his own, work or errands likely calling his attention.

Shaking it off as the man just being ‘a bit odd’ as your brother had said, you went ahead and stepped into the bath to wrap up the day’s chores. As you crouched near the sink and dug out the needed tools, you tried to listen for the front door, but there was only a soft thud somewhere in the distance. That made sense though, sound rarely traveled well through homes like this.

Much like the window patch, this was an easy fix, just replacing the gasket that had worn down in the past years, and you had bought the part in the city earlier that day. You hummed to yourself as you worked and barely more than ten minutes later you were done. You noticed a knot forming in your shoulder from the awkward position, and tried to stretch it out as you reached up to turn the faucet on. After letting it run for a bit you were sure the leak was fixed and climbed to your feet. Stretching again, you took in the bathroom’s design, hating how much it would cost to repair everything else in here.

Alexander Hawkins had apparently wanted to feel like the royalty he snatched treasures from, because his master bath was reminiscent of a pharaoh’s bathhouse- or at least what you imagined one looked like. Turquoise mosaics made up the sink, backsplash, and countertops, the walls were painted with a pattern resembling flower bundles, and decorative pillars flanked the bathtub. To top it all off the tub itself was large, with two steps leading up to it, golden faucets, and depictions of Isis and lotus flowers on the sides.

The problem was that time had not been kind to the delicate materials, and numerous cracks littered the tiles and mosaics making up the room. If big brother wanted to keep the design intact, it would cost. Still, the bathtub was in working order, and it was only the outside tiles that needed replaced, that was a plus. 

Oh, the thought of a shower was inciting. your shirt was sticking to your back and you felt dirty from the sweat you had collected while working outside. You were going out to eat again tonight, and the thought of going out like this really did not appeal. The tub was clean, showing that your brother had probably used it several times after getting dirty himself. And besides all that, you did have a towel and spare shirt in your backpack downstairs.

You checked the time on your phone. If you hurried, you could get just clean enough and still only pick your brother up only a few minutes late. You at least had the decency to shoot him an “I’ll be late” text as you bolted for the stairs. You snatched your backpack up and headed back up the stairs in record time. 

It was only when you reentered the master bedroom that the eerie emptiness of the house started to creep back upon you. It wasn’t so bad with Atem around, having another person made the whole house feel more...alive. But you forced the uneasiness to the back of your mind as you slipped the sticky clothing off, you only had to deal with it for a few more minutes, you could handle that.

The tub didn’t have a curtain, relying on the sheer size of the tub to catch all the falling water, so you just stepped in and turned the golden faucet on, instantly singing as the water hit your bare skin. You reveled in the rain-like droplets, closing your eyes and simply letting it wash over you. You let yourself have this for a while, long enough for steam to build up and cloud the mirror over the sink and then some. But, unfortunately, you couldn’t relax for long, time wasn’t on your side after all. 

So with a final rinse, you turned the knob and let the water roll down your skin down the drain, before stepping out. You had to be wary of the time floors, now slick with the condensation of your hot water. After thoroughly patting yourself down with the towel, you walked to the vanity where your new shirt and the rest of your clothes lay.

Your fingers had just touched the fabric when something cold ran up your arms

You froze, just like in the library, something intense and unknowing wracked your senses. It made the hairs on the back of your next stand up, your skin shiver and crawl. Before you could even think as to why, your eyes were darting up to the foggy mirror- and your heart nearly stopped in your chest. 

Something had clawed at the glass.

No- no. You took a step back, shaking your head as you clamped your eyes shut. Don’t be stupid, nothing had clawed at the glass! You took a calming breath before opening your eyes and looking at the streaks closer. You were thoroughly scolding yourself now, they were just finger marks, likely having been there for years since the glass hadn’t been cleaned in all that time. 

Of course, that’s why they were, there was even a spot that looked like a palm below the streaks. It was the same as drawing on a mirror with water then blowing hot breath on it, it was bound to leave marks. Still, the fact that you were so jumpy was off-putting in of itself, why did this place have that effect on you.

“Christ, what’s wrong with me?” you snapped to yourself. Then, in an irritated move, you swiped your hand across the mirror to clean off the rest of the steam-made fog before snatching up your clothes.

_ Crack! _

Something flashed just above your hand and you reared back with a cry just as a shard of glass shattered on the turquoise sink! You nearly slipped on the tile in your frantic move, but just managed to catch yourself on the counter. Heartbeats were thundering in your ears again as your eyes snapped back up to the mirror.

There, right across the middle in a jagged slash, the glass had cracked, leaving the top half to fall free and nearly impale your hand. You let out another curse under your breath, only then realizing that your breaths were coming out in something just short of frantic heaves. With another step back, slower this time, you closed your eyes, keeping your hand clamped over your heart as you calmed your breathing.

Your sense came back with every breath and once they were under control, you forced your mind to start thinking rationally again. Just like the ‘claw’ marks, the breaking had to have a logical cause. The glass was old, yes, that was it. It was just used to years of the temperature only changing slowly over the seasons. Your hot shower, the drastic temperature change, must have stressed it, and your irritated rubbing was the last straw. That had to be it. You told yourself as much even as you opened your eyes and looked at your jagged reflection.

“Just being jumpy,” you assured yourself in a whisper, the half-face in the mirror staring back at you just like any normal broken mirror would.

Still, once you tore your gaze away from it, you were practically tripping as you yanked your clothes back on, and didn’t look back as you sprinted out the door.

***

One of the only spots in the village of Hartstown was a mom and pop diner that had specials labeled things like “kettle-me hungry soup” and “sandwich supper surprise”, but the restaurant was decent enough despite its nonsensical wordplay on the menu. Though you had ordered something safer than a surprise sandwich stuffed with lord knew what, you were still picking at your plate with a disinterest that had little to do with the meal.

The scene of that glass shard falling kept replying in your mind, not only that, but your reaction to that and practically everything before it. Maybe it was just the AC unit near your booth, but you thought you even felt a phantom of the shivers that had crawled up your spine during those uneasy moments.

“So, as you might have guessed, I’ve definitely decided to head to LA and dance naked in front of Scarlet Johansson!” your brother proclaimed from the seat across from you, which promptly caused you to blink back into the moment.

“Wait-” you shook your head and finally looked back up at him, “what the heck are you going on about?”

With the good-grace of a toddler, he rolled his eyes at you, “Finally I get your attention, I’ve been rambling nonsense for the past two minutes!”

“Sorry,” your voice sounded more defeated, more tired than you meant it too, and you tried to give him an apologetic smile to strengthen the word.

At that, his brows actually drew together a bit, his eyes gaining a more serious look, “Are you okay?” he asked, tone low, gently nudging, “You’ve been off ever since you picked me up, you’re starting to worry me.”

You opened your mouth, intending to brush his worry off with a ‘yeah’ or ‘of course’, but the words didn’t come. Instead, you finally set your fork down and said, “I don’t know. I… can I ask you something, even if it sounds stupid or silly?”

“I think I got desensitized to silly questions that time you asked me why dragons aren’t real when you were four.” He was grinning now, obviously trying for an easy air, but it only lasted a second before he dropped the silly smile and leaned in. “Come on, you know you can tell me whatever. What’s wrong?”

“Have you...since you’ve been working on this house, have you noticed being more...uneasy, or jumpier? Like does the place make you unsettled at all?”

His brows were furrowed again as he thought the question over. He took his time, maybe looking over all the days spent there, or maybe just trying to figure out the best answer that wouldn’t upset you. “Well, not really. I don’t feel more jumpy necessarily, but… okay, this may sound stupid but, I actually started having these weird dreams about the house. I don’t remember my dreams a lot of the time but these were like...super intense. But I just figured I was stressing over getting the renovations done.”

He thought for a moment again, actually biting his lip before continuing.

“Actually, now that I think about it, I had the weird dreams not long before the heart attack. Maybe they were signs of my health taking a big drop, you know stress or whatever?” His eyes, which had been staring unfocused at the pine colored table, now snapped back up to you. “Why do you ask? Been getting weird vibes from the manor or something?”

Suddenly feeling more embarrassed than before, you picked up your fork again, only to resume batting your food around. “I’ve just been acting kinda jumpy and nervous when I’m in the house, that’s all.”

“Weird, that’s not like you,” concern and even a little interest was apparent in his voice, “heck whenever mom and dad moved us to a new project you were never afraid or skittish of exploring the old places. And I can’t remember how many times I woke up in the dead of night and had to drag you back to bed.”

“I know, it’s why I’m weirded out by the way I’ve felt while in the manor. Doesn’t make sense...” He didn’t say anything at first, and when the silence persisted for a few beats longer, you took a deep breath and put on your biggest smile for him. “Eh, doesn’t matter now, I’m sure it’ll get better now that you’ll keep me company while I work.”

He stared back at you for a bit, eyes narrowing some to show just how unconvinced he was. Still, he let it drop and gave a shrug. “Yup, thanks for putting in that ramp, I think making myself useful will help my recovering go by faster.” Then, obviously deciding to let you move on from the topic, he snatched up the dessert menu tucked between the salt and pepper shakers. “Anyway, if you aren’t going to finish your food, we have to get something in your stomach. You want some cake or ice cream?”

***

The next day began a repair project sure to be a lengthy one. After talking it over you and your brother decided that working on the grand staircase should be the next task and you were dreading the days upon days it would take to get everything he wanted regarding the staircase done. Well, at least you had help.

“Bring your end to the right just a tad, Max,” you said, making a slight motion with your hand so he wasn’t in doubt on if you meant your right or his. “That’s it, perfect!”

The son of the local hardware store owner was impressing you more and more as the day ticked on. He was a surprisingly capable and had good intuition on what needed to be done as you two worked together. Heck, when he helped you install that replacement beam you hardly had to coach him at all.

“Yes yes, you’re both doing an amazing job! Looks great!” your brother called from his lounged position in the entry hall.

Seeing as how you and Max were crouched in the cupboard space under the stairs, he had made camp on the other side of the opened door with a cup of coffee and some cookies Max’s mom had baked for the three of you. He had also made a habit of gloating for the past fifteen minutes. After screwing brackets to the planks you and Max cut to size, there wasn’t much work for your brother to do, something that he was all too willing to make comments on. 

“Oh shut it, before I kick you in your bad leg,” you grumbled as you twisted to the side to screw in the wooden brace you and Max were holding under the step.

“That, kiddo, is sibling abuse and I will not have it from my servants,” he replied, doing a terrible impersonation of an English Lord.

He jumped in his chair when you kicked a stray L bracket at your foot through the door and towards him, promptly causing Max to stifle a snort. 

After that “attack” he managed to remain silent as you and Max continued to work, at least for a while. Sometime later there was a knock on the front door, one that echoed so cacophonously, that poor Max gave a start, knocking his head into the underside of the stairs. Your brother called for whoever it was to come in, and the door creaked open with a groan.

“Atem!” he called to the visitor, and though you couldn’t see from your spot in the cupboard, you heard Atem give a warm hello in return.

“I see you’re doing well, I’m glad,” Atem went on and you could just see his figure as he stopped beside your brother’s seat.

“Yup, just have to get these limbs healed up,” he wiggled his cast-coated arm and leg, “after that I’ll be back on the job. And I hear you’ve met the kiddo,” he waved his good hand towards the cupboard, causing Atem to lean down a bit and peer through the door, “and the kid in the back is Max.”

“I have a name too, jackass,” you scolded, before drilling in another screw. He had always made a bad habit of introducing you with the nickname.

“The stairs needed to be repaired?” Atem stepped closer to look over your work with curiosity, though he didn’t enter the space for fear of getting in your way.

“Not dire ones, no, but we noticed some weak points in the wood and figured adding some braces to the steps would be a good call.” You turned to repeat the drilling process on Max’s side, but just managed to catch a glimpse of Atem’s face falling into a slight frown.

“This looks like it will take a while,” Atem muttered and you looked over your shoulder to find his eyes wandering up the many steps.

“It will, especially since the second flights will be harder to get to,” you waved a bit to indicate how the stairs split into two and turned opposite each other halfway up, indeed dreading the chore, “But I think it’ll be worth it, it pays to assure buyers that their grand lavish staircase won’t collapse on them.”

“You’re not going to work into the night, are you?”

At the question, you again looked over your shoulder, almost giving him a raised brow, “Uh, probably not, Max here has school in the morning and we actually like to have a thing called dinner. We’ll be here for a few hours though.”

Atem nodded after a pause of consideration, “Good, it wouldn’t be wise to work so late.”

That comment struck you as odd too, but you brushed it off and turned back to your work. There was silence behind you for a bit, but another glance at Atem showed that he was looking the stairway over with careful consideration. Then, as you and Max moved on to attaching the next plank, your brother decided to distract Atem by waving him back over. Judging by the low tones, you figured he was thanking Atem for saving him that day. Your suspicions were confirmed when Atem simply smiled at him and assured that he was happy he started stopping by the house so often.

You started to tune out the conversation a bit as they chattered, working to get the next brace up before the shake in Max’s arms started to get worse. Once that was done you gave the kid a sympathetic smile.

“Ready for a break?”

He nodded, obviously grateful you had noticed his need for one, poor kid must have wanted to avoid looking like a whiner. When you two stepped out of the cupboard you saw your brother chatting Atem’s ear off and, though he looked attentive to the conversation, you couldn’t help noticing that Atem was looking more worn than the previous time’s you’d seen him. 

After tossing one of the homemade cookies to Max and biting into one yourself, you held the plate out to Atem, “Cookie? They’re fresh and super yummy.” You wiggle the plate to further entice him, earning a smirk in reply, despite that he seemed even more haggard now that you were looking at him up close.

“Thank you, but I’ll have to pass,” he actually took a step back then- and you almost dropped the plate when he stumbled a bit, your instinct to jump forward to help him taking over. He held up his hand the moment he straightened, a silent assurance that he was fine to pair with his thankful smile. “I’m actually feeling a bit under the weather all of the sudden,” he looked to each of you in turn, his eyes holding an apology, “I should be going, the last thing I want is to make anyone else ill.”

You took a step towards him even as he stepped back again, the man was practically worsening before your eyes! “I can walk you home, if you want, make sure you get there okay.”

“No, that’s alright,” his smile had fallen now, though you could tell he was still trying to put on a grateful air.

“Need medicine from town or anything? We can go pick some up for you,” your brother offered next, leaning forward in his chair and watching Atem just as carefully as you.

Again Atem shook his head, “I’ll be fine, but thank you.” He gave a look towards the sitting room, one that was a bit anxious. “Do you mind if I use the kitchen door?”

“Uh- yeah, yeah sure,” your brother insisted, waving Atem in that direction, “feel better soon, dude.”

Atem didn’t say any more to that, just nodded his head in thanks and ducked into the sitting room. You tried to listen to his footsteps as he retreated through the house, but rugs must have muffled his feet. At least you didn’t hear him collapse on the ground.

You and your brother exchanged a look and a shrug, before Max chimed in with, “That dude was weird.”

Again, your brother shrugged, “Wonder what made him feel sick all of the sudden,” his eyes flickered down to the cookies, “I mean, the cookies aren’t that bad.”

“I don’t know,” you signed, then set the plate back down on the end table beside him, “Sucks too, I think he was looking forward to seeing you again.”

“Well, at least we won’t stop coming around any time soon.”

You nodded at that, and the conversation seemed to move on as your brother asked Max to go refill his coffee cup. You quickly offered to do it instead, your mind still occupied with Atem’s odd demeanor and wanting to check on something. It wasn’t until you were turning towards the kitchen that you realized the path Atem had taken was an odd one, as there was a door beside the main stairs that led almost directly to the kitchens. He really must have been out of his head with his sudden illness.

That made you more concerned though and you found yourself double-checking the route he had taken to the kitchen just to make sure he hadn’t fallen on his way out. He hadn’t, but you still scanned the grounds through the kitchen windows as you poured your brother’s coffee, just to make sure. You didn’t see anything resembling a body out there either, thank goodness.

Despite having that assurance, however, you found yourself unable to shake him from your mind, even as you went back to work.

***

Several days passed, two of them spent at the manor, and not a word was heard from your repeat visitor. The previous day you were there, before you began the day’s work, you had even taken a walk in the forest bordering the manor to see if you could find his house and check on him. The search yielded nothing, and you had to tamp down the worry you felt for the rest of the day. 

Honestly, the concern you felt for him was a little surprising, you barely knew the man but couldn’t seem to get him far from your mind. If it wasn’t mulling over how...mysterious he was, it was something else like this.

Now it was the third workday at the manor later, and you were hoping he’d show up today. If he just had a cold or felt bad from the changing seasons, surely he would be better by now. Even aside from your aforementioned worry, you felt his absence particularly bad today, as it was the first time all week that you were alone in the house again. 

The stairs were all reinforced now, and today your brother had opted to stay at your shared airbnb seeing as how he couldn’t help much with your project today. You wanted to get all the work needed on the staircase done now, and that included sanding down every step and revarnishing them. It was a necessary task to recapture the manor’s original sparkle, but you didn’t relish how much time it would take.

At least the loudness of the sanding belt gave some form of distraction, you hardly ever had time to think about how empty the house was over the noise. No, instead you found yourself constantly looking over your shoulder and taking periodic breaks to check if the house really was empty. You were sure you were just expecting to find Atem leaning against the banister, waiting until you took notice of him before saying anything.

But no, time ticked away and no matter how many times you checked, Atem was nowhere to be found. You worked anyway and took a break to go get some food and check on your brother before going back to finish the job. You were thankful that the house had plenty of lighting because you noted the setting sun as you parked your car in the driveway again. Though you did want to groan at having to be here so late, you were determined to get it done.

There was still plenty of sunlight as you unlocked the front door, but even still, when you opened it you felt the urge to shiver.

Memories of the broken mirror in the bathroom came back to you and gave you pause, the door only half-open. You stood there on the stoop, staring at nothing and only able to register the shiver and those memories. This was ridiculous, the mirror was just a mirror, and nothing strange had happened in the manor that you couldn’t explain away.

Taking a calming breath, you pushed the door the rest of the way open. A vision of someone or something standing on the other side flashed in your mind, but you released a hard huff of air when nothing but the large entry hall greeted you.

You still fumbled a bit frantically for the light switch on the wall beside you, even as the day’s dying light filtered in through the window at the top of the stairs. Again you scolded yourself, rubbing a hand over your face as you all but slammed the door behind you and told yourself to stop being paranoid.

After that, you wasted no time in getting back to work, determined to get the varnishing done so it could dry overnight. This work was quieter than the sanding, but you played your favorite playlist on the boombox to keep distracted. The light outside the window slowly faded until only the lights on the chandelier lit your way, but you didn’t mind. The trees surrounding the house might be particularly foreboding at night, but in here you could easily put such things out of your mind.

At one point you found your eyes closing of their own accord and only snapped them open when your hand felt wet, a result of touching the still wet varnishing in your sleepy stupor. Thankfully two steps after that incident you were finally gloriously done!

With a stretch and a yawn, you took real notice of just how exhausted you were, though little else could be expected after considering how many hours you had worked. Just as you were hating the idea of the drive back to town through the pitch-black roads, your phone rang.

“Hey, how's it going, close to done yet?” big brother asked after you answered.

“Just finished, actually-” a yawn broke the words, causing him to chuckle on the other end.

“Sounds like a good thing too, you sure you’re okay to drive back? Those country roads can be dangerous at night.”

You almost shrugged before remembering that he couldn’t see it through the phone, “I mean, I don’t have much of a choice, not like I want to crash in one of the dust-filled mattresses upstairs.”

“Well, there’s one bed there suitable for human slumber,” he said with a hum, “I cleaned the mattress in the master suite and put spare blankets and pillows in the closet, in case there was ever a night like this and I just needed to crash.”

The sheer magnitude of your exhaustion showed in your cry of relief at the words, “I think I’ll do that, then, because I’m so tired, I could probably curl up on the stairs if I didn’t have a way home.”

“Go for it! Catch some sleep and I’ll see you in the morning, k?”

“Okay, goodnight.”

A tired brand of excitement took over at the promise of immediate sleep, so much so that you almost jumped on the still wet steps before remembering that you would have to take the servant's stairs. That wasn’t a far walk though, and just a couple of turns after the stairs you were in the master suite. Indeed there were blankets and pillows tucked away in the closet and you dug them out greedily before throwing them on the bed. You didn’t bother undressing, considering you didn’t have PJs anyway, and just crawled under the chilly covers, tucked in, and closed your eyes. 

Warm took over soon, and with your music still playing downstairs, you were able to drift off rather quickly.

The night ticked on, your sleeping form peaceful from exhaustion even after your playlist came to an end and silence filled the halls. Silence, all except the old grandfather clock ticking in the entry hall. Nothing stirred in the lounge or the kitchen. Nothing shifted in the conservatory besides the crickets resting on the weeds outside the window.

Nothing within the halls of the House of Anubis moved. That is, until the shadows came.

Moonlight had bathed your sleeping form for over an hour, but once the moon crept higher and disappeared above the window, shadows slowly filled the room. You slept on peacefully, even as something scraped behind the walls- claws dragging, searching. Something whispered, something growled as it dragged itself closer to new flesh; a new victim.

The shadows were its paths and something shifted beneath the thick wallpaper of the master’s room. Its claws scraped just enough to make you stir for a moment, but it wasn’t enough to wake you, even as the wall above your headboard started breathing. A hiss, and the walls looked more like cloth as something that vaguely resembled a hand moved under it, and down closer to your peaceful form.

In slow, almost labored movements the hand- the boney claw tried to reach out, straining against the wall like rubber, desperate to reach you- desperate to tear and squeeze the life out! It growled again a beast fighting to grab hold of its meal-

Then it reared back and hissed as even darker shadows grabbed hold of it.

There, in the far corner of the room, something shifted in the dark, sharp eyes glowing as the darker shadows chained the creature, yanking it back from you even as it snapped and hissed and spat. Atem stepped out of the shadows then, hands tucked in his pockets as he glared at the thing hovering above you. 

“You can’t have this one, I won’t allow it!” he said in a voice low and cold.

With nothing but a thought, more shadows crept into the room, spiraling out from his own shadow like tendrils until they wrapped around the creature. It fought even though it was no use, it was still too weak to stand up to him and Atem knew it. Soon enough with a snarling whine, it retreated, back to the dark hidden pit it came from, leaving Atem victorious.

He closed his eyes, their glowing irises fading as the shadows settled, blending into the natural shapes on the walls as if they were never there to begin with. He sighed as he opened his eyes again, gaze landing on your form. It wasn’t surprising that you didn’t wake, even if you did you’d find an empty room. Still, Atem almost wished you had, almost wished you had seen the creature hovering over you so you would finally have the damn good instincts to stay away from this place at night!

He bit back the bitter thoughts, he couldn’t blame you, not really, and he should just be thankful that you and your brother hadn’t decided to live in the house while restoring it. Even still, his worry simmered in his chest, causing him to step across the room until he was by the bedside. You looked so calm, tranquil, even...vulnerable. 

He hadn’t realized he was reaching out to touch your cheek until his fingers were hovering just a hair away from your soft skin. He let it linger there for a bit, on the verge of touch, until he closed his fist and pulled it back with a shake of his head. He was such a fool sometimes. Even after all this heartache, he still found it hard not to get attached, not to cling to every positive force that he encountered.

Even still and even considering the fact that the creature wouldn’t dare return that night, Atem settled down in the armchair beside the bed, and watched over you until sunlight creped over the windowsill and filled the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween <3

**Author's Note:**

> So, what do you guys think about our mysterious Atem? How about the odd house itself? Any ideas on what's going on that or how this haunted adventure might heat up? Let me know your thoughts in the comments <3


End file.
